Do this first
Free, and it cannot go wrong
Take the lid off and let it boil down
Reduction costs you nothing but time, and unlike a
slurry it concentrates the flavour while it thickens. It is also the
only correction that cannot be overdone in a way you cannot walk
back — you can always stop.
Remember two things have already thickened it before you
started. If the recipe dredged the beef in flour before searing, that
flour is in the liquid now. If there are potatoes in the pot, their
starch is too. Cooks who cut the broth and let the potatoes do the work
rated the body 6 out of 10 with no added thickener at all, and starchy
russets in big chunks — which fall apart into the liquid —
reached 8.
What to do: uncover it for the last twenty to
thirty minutes and see where it gets to. Then judge.
The contested part
11 cooks for, 5 against
A slurry at the end works, and a third of the people who use one
wish they had not
Finishing with a flour or cornstarch slurry, or a proper flour-and-fat roux, usually thickens the sauce, but results vary widely -- thin to very thick -- likely from clumping, under-dissolving, or skipping the roux. Skipping thickening altogether sometimes still leaves decent body, sometimes leaves it clearly thin.
This is the one question in beef stew where our cooks
genuinely split, and we are not going to average them into a verdict.
The objection is not that slurries fail to thicken — they
obviously do. It is that the result tastes pasty and mutes the braise,
which is a complaint about what a stew should taste like rather than
about whether a technique works. Four cooks skipped the step entirely,
by accident or by judgement, and reported a good stew.
What to do: if you thicken, undershoot. Every
dissent in this corpus is about too much, never about too little, and
you can always add more.